NO CRIB FOR A BED

You threw me away?
You threw me away?
I can’t believe you.
How could you do that?
I was your daughter! (son)
I didn’t know what was happening. How could I? I had
no knowledge of the world.
Will I be like you?
Will I someday have to put a mistake I made out of sight?
Hide the hurt.
Hide the shame.
Don’t want anyone to know.
“Me?”
“Have a child?”
“No.”
?Who do you think I am?”
I’m not that careless., I’m not that cruel, that—
Oh really?
You need to buy a crib, not a Dumpster.
You needed to buy clothes, not yesterdays newspaper.
…
Who would I be?
An artist.
Draw pictures,
Paint murals,
Dance in the ballet?
…
Maybe a mathematician!
One plus one equals two.
NO.
WAIT.
One plus one equals one.
One for the money.
One of a kind.
One in a million.
One hand clapping.
…
I wonder if I ate anything, touched anything.
I don’t know.
I don’t remember.
…
I want to know you.
I want to know him?
Who’s my daddy?
Who is my father?
Where is he?
Maybe he’d talk to me.
Maybe he’d care for me.
Love me?
He might even love me.
You never know.
…
Knock knock.
Are you my father?
Do you look like me?
Speak like me?
Dream like me?
No?
…
Knock knock.
Hello. My name is Mary. (for Christmas, see. Mary Christmas.)
…
Can I get a blood sample?
…
A lock of hair, maybe?
…
Knock knock.
…
Is anybody home?
…
Knock knock.
…
I’ll come back tomorrow.;
…
Knock knock.
Hello. I’m your pride and joy.
…
No?
…
You never?
…
Still?
Oh my God! I didn’t know there were virgins anymore.

Knock knock.
I see you’re busy.
Just a minute of your time.
Please?
Someone threw me away, and I’m looking for them.
Maybe someone didn’t know I’d been discarded with orange peels.
A minute?
Just one minute?
Hey! World at large?—who am I?
I really want to know.
…
Knock knock!
Do I look familiar?
Am I a face on a paper bag, a missing child?
Do you think--?
…
Sure, I’ll wait.
…
NO, I’M NOT SELLING ANYTHING.
…
Boy or girl?
How old?
Could I hole--?
Okay.
Just asking.
Thank you anyway.
Knock knock!
Do I belong to you?
I do?
I’m a child of God.
Got it.
But not a child of your.
NO, I’M A VEGAN.
I’m not ugly. (Actually, I’m beautiful. Just look at me.
I’m the same height.
Same color hair. Here, touch it. Run your fingers through it.
Still not convinced. Hmmmm.
I don’t know what to say?
How does it feel to know that someone didn’t want you. Didn’t even know you long enough to choose a name.?
Horrible.
It’s horrible.
Can you blame me for trying so hard?
Knock knock.
Mary. My name is Mary.
(How many times do I have to tell this story?)
I feel like the duckling in the children’s book, asking everyone, pestering everyone, in search of something in plain sight.
But I can’t see it.
Knock knock.
Wow, it’s warm in there. Can I come in? can we talk?
I know I’m not alone—not in the cosmic sense? Not in the spiritual way. And yes?—and still, I could really use a pair of arms to wrap themselves around me, claim me, welcome me.
NO, I’M NOT A Republican.
I like game shows.
Jeopardy. Do you watch? Do you play?
Who Wants to be a Millionaire. (I’d love to be a millionaire. Money draws people
like sugar bring ants, like water flowing down a driveway when I’m washing my car.)
Knock. Knock.
Is anybody home?
…
I’m a Gemini.
I’m left-handed. Are you?
No?
I’m a traveler. Would you believe I’ve been around the world three times?
Once by air.
Once by sea.
Once on foot.
(I just got back last night.)
Did you know--?
Sorry. I’ll let you go back to Monday night football.
Sorry I bothered you.
Two legs.
Two arms—see?
Only one mouth.
Two ears. Yes, pierced.
No I don’t like pierced tongues.
Bitch!
…
How hard is this supposed to be?
Just a few questions: that’s all.
If I have to, I’ll interview all six billion of my revolving family.
What a mess.
I hope I’m not related to you.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
…
Hola. Me llamo Maria.
…
Look at me.
!Busque!
Did I get that right?
Mire!
…
Gracias.
Bonjour?
…
Sorry, that’s all I know in French?
Do you speak English?
…
English?
…
Never mind.
Knock knock.
Guten Morgan.
Hejsan.
Adidas should pay me to promote their shoes: I’ve walked around the world—again.
Do I look familiar?
Do I look like anybody you know?
Anyone you don’t know?
I was born in the garbage, no crib for a bed.
Knock knock.
Jambo, Jana langu ni Mary.
Ola.
Dia dut.
Knock knock.
I’m Mary. A traveler—of course.
I’m a damned good cook.
I’m a dressmaker.
I’m great at math. (Found that out in school.)
I can’t fix anything. I’m all thumbs when it comes to repairs.
So I ask my friends.
Why waste the time.
…
Knock knock.
…
Knock knock.
…
Anybody Home?
I want to show you a picture!
…
I’m home! I’m home.
We’re home.
You’re safe with me.

Copyright (c) 2009 print@LARGE